


Friday Evenings at the Library, With Quentin

by alfredvonkrolock



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, No not THAT Library, One Shot, The Library AU no one asked for, fluff?, might continue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfredvonkrolock/pseuds/alfredvonkrolock
Summary: “Uh… Coldwater.”“Coldwater? Where’s that from.”“Well,” the librarian said, “most people get their last names from their parents-““No, I mean where does it originate,” he said with a grin.





	Friday Evenings at the Library, With Quentin

**Author's Note:**

> Like many others, I'm destroyed by the finale. But instead of a fix it fic, I'm going to write a bunch of AUs and stuff because I need some fluff and happiness in my life with these two. 
> 
> This is the first time I'm writing any kind of Magicians fic so this is a whole new experience.

Friday evenings at the library usually went pretty slow for Quentin. There wasn’t much to do in the way of actual work, mostly just sitting at the circulation desk and twiddling his thumbs until someone came up to him with a question. When he wasn’t tending to guests or out shelving books, he usually played around on his phone or people watched, the latter activity being his favorite. 

There are so many different types of people who come into libraries. You get men in suits, children, people of all ages, races, etc. It’s an open and accepting environment and that’s what made Quentin really love his job. 

This particular Friday evening the library seemed more dead than usual. Not that Quentin really cared, he had a chance to scroll through Pinterest and get some ideas for the upcoming book release party for Stephen King’s newest novel. He liked to go over the top with decorating; who could blame him? 

While he wasn’t paying attention, someone approached the circulation desk. 

“Excuse me, Mr…” The man said as he narrowed his eyes, squinting to read the name on the tag that the young librarian in front of him was wearing. 

Glancing up Quentin paused, taking in the man in front of him. Those brown eyes, the shapely face, the dimple in the chin. He was also a lot taller than Quentin was and he felt his stomach flip almost immediately. Quentin wasn’t one to find strangers attractive, that’s how one falls in love with a stranger, but this man was someone that he would be hard pressed to deny that he wasn’t attractive. 

Wait – he had said something, and Quentin hadn’t replied yet. Shit.

“Uh… Coldwater.”

“Coldwater? Where’s that from.” 

“Well,” the librarian said, “most people get their last names from their parents-“

“No, I mean where does it originate,” he said with a grin.

“Oh. Uh, pretty sure it’s as American as you can get. Like right up there with Smith or something,” the librarian replied. “Uh, is there anything I can help you find?”

“Oh right, sorry Mr. Coldwater.”

“Just call me Quentin.” 

“Quentin?”

“It’s a lot easier than calling me Mr. Coldwater. Besides, it makes me feel like my dad.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, he’s dead, so…”

“Oh.” Eliot’s gaze dropped to the papers on the desk. “I’m-“

“Don’t be sorry,” Quentin said at almost the exact same time. “It’s been like four years at this point and we weren’t really all that close, so you know,” he shrugged. “Sardonic humor is kind of how I cope with things.” 

Suddenly, from behind one of the shelves, a kid came running up to the counter. Eliot reached over and patted him gently on the head twice before the kid spoke up. “Did you find it yet?” He asked, bouncing around. He couldn’t have been any older than ten.

“I haven’t asked yet.”

“Oh. Do you have the Percy Jackson series?” He asked Quentin, a grin on his face. “I read the first one and used it for a school project, but they didn’t have the second one and I really need to know what happens next!” 

“Calm down,” Eliot said with a smile. “We’re still in a library which means you have to be quieter than that. I know you’re excited.” 

“He’s okay,” Quentin replied. “I’m pretty sure there’s only one other person here and he just sits in the back room listening to music and doing homework so I doubt he can hear you.” He flashed Eliot a smile and turned to the computer on the desk, typing up the search the kid was looking for. Finding the Dewey number, he wrote it down on a sticky note and peeled it off. “Do you want me to help you find it?”

“No, I think I can,” the kid replied.

Quentin handed the sticky note to him and he took off running, Eliot turning around and calling after him in a loud whisper. “Hey, don’t run!” Shaking his head and sighing he turned back to Quentin. “Kids, right?”

“Is he yours?”

Eliot laughed. “No, he’s my friend Margo’s kid. I’m the godfather so I watch him when his parents get busy or they’re celebrating an anniversary or something.” 

“Gotcha. So… Percy Jackson? Did he pick that one himself?”

“Kind of? I was taking a Myth class about a year ago and he really liked the Greek unit. Jason made me read every single story aloud when I would be doing homework and he just wouldn’t stop talking about them… so I got him the first Percy Jackson book for his birthday.”

“And then he used it for his project?”

“Mhmm. He’s been begging to read the next one but surprisingly Barnes and Noble is sold out. So, I figured, what better place-“

“Than a library?” 

“Exactly.” 

“How fast of a reader is he?” Quentin asked.

“He goes through books like water.”

“Perfect. We’ve got the whole series shelved right now and he could check all of them out if he wanted to.” 

“Well there’s kind of an issue with that. I don’t have a library card.”

“Oh. Well, do you happen to have any mail on you so I can get one for you?”

“Actually, I do. I’ve got a letter from my school right…” he started patting his pockets to find what he was looking for. Pulling open his jacket he stuck a hand in what Quentin figured was a side pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Ah, here.” 

“Thank you, Mr…” he glanced at the last name on the envelope. “Waugh?”

“The one and only. Well, besides my dad. But I don’t like being associated with him too much, so just call me Eliot.” 

“Cool, I’ve got your name and address and now I just need your number.”

Eliot grabbed a pen out of one of Quentin’s cup near the computer and the pad of sticky notes. “It’s kind of a confusing number so let me write it down real quick,” he said. He tore the note off and handed it to Quentin right as Jason came from behind another shelf. “Uncle Eliot,” he said. “I found all of them! Can I get them? 

“I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

Quentin had turned back to the computer to start typing in Eliot’s number when he heard a clink of plastic hit the desk. Turning back, he watched as Jason slid a card towards him. 

It was a library card.

“I thought you said you didn’t have one,” he asked in confusion. 

“I did say that, didn’t I.” Eliot smirked.

Backing out of the new card system, he scanned the four books Jason had and slid them back over the counter. “Well,” Quentin said, “would you like the sticky note with your number back or do you want me to-“

“Use it,” Eliot replied.

“What?”

“You have my number now. Use it.” He flashed Quentin a smile before putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder and leading him out. 

As Eliot left, Quentin found himself looking back and forth from the door to the number he held in his hands. Before he did anything else he pulled his phone out and put Eliot’s number into it, wondering how long he should wait before he sent a text.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to, come scream with me about The Magicians and other fandoms over on my [ tumblr ](http://www.oliverxmarks.tumblr.com)


End file.
